


Death's Emissary

by ZaishaSTegis



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, character resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaishaSTegis/pseuds/ZaishaSTegis
Summary: Peter could never want him.Peter’s so good and so perfect how could he even compare.





	Death's Emissary

“How could anyone want this?”  
Hands tearing at the mask, hiding his disfigured face.  
“I’m a monster, the boogie man in the closet, no one could look at me and not be disgusted and-”  
Broken breaths, heaving lungs.  
“And who would ever want to stay?”  
Muffled gasp.  
“Who would ever tolerate me long enough for me to - to -”  
Shaking limbs curl inward an attempt to shield their host from the pain.  
  
“Wade…”  
A sigh, softer than a breath of air off of a bird’s wings.  
  
Shaking limbs tense, shuddering at the force of panic and fear flooding a system.  
“No.”  
Choked gasps.  
“No. No. No.”  
A monotony of utterances denying the other’s presence.  
  
“I am here Wade, for you.”  
Slight figure, calming tenor, a slide of fabric over sweat matted strands.  
  
“NO!”  
An animal backed into a corner.  
“You can’t see me! You’ll leave-”  
Sobs of emotion.  
“You’ll run and I’ll lose-”  
Closing of a throat.  
“You’ll be gone.”  
  
A creak in weary joints echos. Knees bending to lower the smaller frame to rest opposite of the tattered remains of the scarred man. Back braced against aged stone. The mask in a limp grasp. Golden eyes never leaving the form.  
  
“Gone - away - alone - again.”  
  
“I’ll be here when you need me. Not gonna go anywhere.”  
Small tremors shake the frame. Adrenaline leaving the system. Unknown pains awakening, making themselves known.  
  
Hours. Days? Time blurs.  
  
“Peter?”  
  
Lids flicker, weariness pulling down. Grasping at awareness.  
“Still here.”  
Cracking dry whisper.  
Death draws near.  
  
“Peter!”  
Frantic, pain.  
“NO. You can’t take him. Not him. He is mine.”  
  
“Wade.”  
A whisper, silk on sandstone. Trembling fingers ghost over scarred skin. A tattered uniform hanging from scraps still held at his belt.  
“Still here.”  
Cracked lips bend in a smile. Fingers fall, limp and bent with the momentum.  
  
Sobs wrack his chest. Emotions tearing at all defenses.  
“NO.”  
  
Scarred lips sneer back as he rises, arms clutching what’s his.  
“Death!”  
Barking orders.  
“I have given you enough!”  
Deadly screams.  
“You cannot have him too.”  
Pleading.  
“Take whatever more you need from me.”  
Bartering.  
“Just not him - Peter.”  
Hitching breaths, a soft sigh.  
“He stayed.”  
Cracking tones, rumbling bass.  
“He has my love.”  
  
_“Then he lives, by the power of Death’s emissary. He lives.”_  
Cool water of a mountain.  
A gasp of air filling stilled lungs.


End file.
